whatcha mean / intro,open

This is an archived version of FeralFront. While you can surf through all the content that was ever created on FeralFront, no new content can be created.
If you'd like some free FeralFront memorabilia to look back on fondly, see this thread from Dynamo (if this message is still here, we still have memorabilia): https://feralfront.com/thread/2669184-free-feralfront-memorabilia/.

    What do you mean?

    Finley / bloodclan / female ♂ / tags & information

    *:･ﾟ✦ Finley hated the sewers. she really did. She would occasionally venture into them but not often. It would mostly be to see people and talk but most of her time was spent in the junkyard. Wondering the mountains of junk for fun. To fill her time with something.


    Bloodclan wasn't her first voice in a place to reside but her own injuries from a falling out with her brother made it so she couldn't travel further and when her scars heeled she never left. Didn't feel the need to after she created a life within the streets. She wasn't a big part of the clan, cats perhaps knew her but none really knew her. She didn't interact much, she kept quiet and to herself.


    She shooked silently, the grey maine coon sitting, watching the sun set. Peaceful and in her own state of mind. Silence. Silent.



    woow/ i have really low muse. sorry lads


    "Speech."

    The boy always liked the junkyard and preferred it to the murkiness of the sewers; it's where he spent most of his kithood and met Blahkenmuro, where he welcomed newcomers and found food and miscellaneous objects to entertain himself. Granted, many considered him still a kid; his voice was only a tad lower and he was still rather small and his face babyish for his age, but he was 6 moons. By then Ken was fully grown, and Canary hoped this wasn't as big as he'd be getting. He had a few drops of caracal blood, dammit.

    Canary felt that time spent resting was time wasted. Usually just sitting and reflecting only entailed wallowing in self-pity over his sister, though he knew there was something he could do about it; pray, follow orders, repent, and repeat. When he was told to rest after his injury, all he could do was think about the other things he could be doing. He'd pray, but was scared of what his mother would think. He was unaware of her lineage and beliefs. Daydreaming was no longer a pastime of his. So he decided he'd muster up all the strength he could and use it to serve his clan.

    "Hey," the boy greeted towards the stranger. His naturally loud voice seemed to disturb the tranquility of the scene around him. The monsters weren't blaring their horns as usual for the morning. Getting to know newcomers and clanmates was important to keep your status and make others feel welcome. "Gosh, I haven't been seein' you 'round. Are ya new?"

    SO LET’S BE SINNERS TO BE SAINTS

    AND LET’S BE WINNERS BY MISTAKE —tags

    horror lorem ipsum needles at bowels alarming. killer mental psychotic sliced. edginess anxiety tension, claw at deteriorated in, creep a tear. Next came the princely terror himself, Macchiato. He offered a sly smile towards the she-cat and stood next to Canary. His golden eyes flickered and he let out a meow, "Yes, are you new?"